Lisbon's feet pounded the pavement as she stormed numbly out of the CBI, using all her willpower to stop herself from looking back. She couldn't break down, not here, not now. She would leave this godforsaken place with all she had left – a photograph of two golden retrievers and her dignity. For some reason, she wished it would rain. It didn't seem fair that in the midst of all her heartache and misfortune the California sun still shone on, bright and warm as ever. It just didn't match.
She thought about calling a cab to drive her home –she had been banned from driving until her shoulder had healed- but couldn't face talking to another person yet. Hell, she couldn't even face her own emotions yet, so she just kept on walking as fast as she could, in no particular direction.
By the time she finally looked up, the sun was beginning to dip towards the horizon. She raised her head, a gentle breeze lifting the ends of her dark hair as she scanned the landscape for a landmark. Seeing the familiar bus station, she realised she was almost home and relaxed, flopping onto a bench on the sidewalk for a rest. Looking around, she didn't know why she was surprised to see that nothing in the neighbourhood had changed. It was only her that was different. It's like that feeling when you've been away on vacation, she thought, and you expect your home to be different by the time you get back. Closing her eyes, she leaned back against the hard wood bench and let the familiar sounds of waves and traffic wash over her, gently coaxing her into a numb, peaceful state of mind.
Bang! Lisbon jumped and instinctively reached for the place on her hip where she kept her gun, looking around frantically for the source of the noise. Exhaling heavily, relief flooded her as she saw that it was only a car backfiring. Returning to her senses, she looked down at her hand on her hip, grasping thin air, and the realisation crashed down on her, like she had only now heard what Bertram had said. I don't have a gun. Or a badge. I'm not a cop anymore.
Slowly, she sank back down onto the bench, her jaw slack, as she sat, stunned. She turned her head up towards the shrinking sun, and felt like she was shrinking with it. Her life, her whole being, was her job. And now that it was gone…she had nothing.
Later, lying on the couch in her cramped apartment, Lisbon realised that she was still clutching the photograph of the golden retrievers which had sat on her desk for the past nine years. Smiling, she remembered the day she got them, all those years ago. It was before her brothers were born; she had been five years old and had begged her parents for a puppy. After what had seemed like an eternity of pleading, her mother had taken her to the animal shelter, just the two of them, and let her pick a dog. Of course, they had ended up picking two, brother and sister, who they couldn't bear to separate. It was the happiest Lisbon could ever remember being. She'd had no idea that the dogs would outlive her mother, and that this photo would one day be the only evidence that happiness had ever existed in her life.
She sighed at the unfairness of it all – what had she done to deserve all this misfortune? Looking at her useless arm and the worn part of her belt where her CBI badge had rested every day for the last decade, she was overcome with a sense of emptiness, and sudden rage. Hastily, she grabbed the TV remote and flipped on the news, trying to forget her problems by focussing on the rest of the world's. Bad idea. No sooner had she pressed the button than a chipper news presenter announced "CBI consultant Patrick Jane has been sentenced to death after pleading guilty to the murder of a man in a crowded mall. Mr Jane's trial lasted only two hours after a multitude of evidence against him was found at the scene and he admitted committing the heinous crime to a jury…"
Lisbon's head sank into her hands as the real reason for her anger became clear to her. In the midst of her little pity-party she had completely forgotten about the reason for her being fired. Jane. Jane had shot and killed Red John, under her authority. He was the reason she had lost her career. He was so irresponsible and hell-bent on revenge that he hadn't even considered how the consequences would affect her! Fiery rage pounded through her and the vein in her temple began to throb as she contemplated his arrogant stupidity. But as much as she hated him right now, and she did, she still didn't think he deserved to die, did he? After all, Red John had killed his family. Lisbon shook that thought away, as quickly as it had come. Revenge was never the answer. She may not be a cop anymore, but she still felt like one – he had decided to take a life. It was only right that he was punished. Normally she could defend his actions, but this was the one thing they had completely disagreed on.
She lay down, closing her eyes in an attempt to stop the pounding in her head. "Argh!" she screamed, punching the couch in frustration. She couldn't remember ever feeling so hurt and furious. He had gone too far this time – and she would make sure he knew that! With that anger-fuelled thought, she buried her face in the soft fabric of the couch, defeated by emotion, and drifted off into a restless, tortured sleep.